The Hilt
by mr-random-guy
Summary: EPIII spoilers: What happened to Mace Windu's Lightsaber as he plummeted to the ground on Coruscant?
1. If it should fall into the wrong hands

A/N: I'm trying my hand (mind?) at writing some Star Wars Fan Fiction. I've always been an avid Star Wars boy but am not the most knowledgeable (I know enough… I've go to save room though, for more important things!), having grown up with all the wicked PC games and Expanded Universe novels but never really thought of giving SW FanFic writing a go. A friend who "stumbled across this" (read: was snooping around my computer) thought this was interesting and told me to see what you guys think… well… here we are! This is semi-one-shot but depending on the response, I can write more (have written some more) for it if you guys like it. So, let me know what you think of…

**The Hilt**

Disclaimer: I have no affiliation with LucasFilm/LucasArts Entertainment Corporation or any of the Expanded Universe Novels in which may/may not be mentioned herein this FanFiction writing piece. This is purely written for entertainment purposes. I own none of the copy-written material. I do, however, own the plot to this story r ;D

_Spoilers are rife in this fic_! This is set seconds after Mace Windu dies at the hands of Darth Sidious in Episode III: The Revenge of the Sith…

_Chapter : If it fell into the wrong hands…_

Down- down it fell. Flipping slowly enough to see flashes of its master's limp body, somersaulting and flailing awkwardly through the misty clouds.

Down.

Down.

_Down_.

The silver cylinder, once so powerful, so trusted, now fell through the windy atmosphere of Coruscant. The body of the master fell; his robes were scorched from the lightning damage of the Sith lord. Fluttering, the robes obscured the master's face.

Down.

Down.

And _thoomp_.

The small device landed, somewhat more softly than expected for a kilometer of free-falling, onto a mound of thickly disgusting, mashed up waste and excrement.

Perhaps only micro-seconds later, the body of the master landed, unfortunately, on to a rabble of dead droids and jagged pieces of rusted steel. His body remained entirely still. His robes flapped silently in the wind – which was now much softer and calmer on this very low level of the planet.

The hilt lay statically atop the mound of filth; the silver plating which had not been disgraced by the surrounding waste, shimmered mystically in the dim light.

A clip-clopping of heeled boots broke the calm.

A belching was heard, "yeah so I says to her, 'you know what? You can get _your own_ damn money if you're so swept up in wanting new drapes'!"

"You said that Muvo?" a timid voice replied.

"'Course I did!" the belcher stated proudly, "I'm Muvo Bragg! And no third wife of mine is going to whine about _drapes_ of all things when I'm down here shoveling s-"

"WHAT'S THAT?" screamed the timid one.

"SITH SPIT!" Muvo Bragg jumped, "let's get outta here boy! We didn't see nothin'! GOT IT?"

Even before the timid 'boy' could reply, Muvo waved a hand over a control panel. A lurching of gears and steel groaned to life as the room was slowly swallowed up. Great metallic doors on the roof of the complex, rusted from years of being exposed to the elements, closed over.

Muvo glanced quickly over at what had broken his gloating, taking in one last look at what he presumed, was the body of a Jedi Knight – dead. His plump fingers danced around the keypad and the door to the room closed shut; gears locked the metallic door in place.

He sighed, turning to the timid boy, "we don't know what went on here and we don't wanna know, got that boy?"

The boy nodded. Although he had lived his entire life in the proverbial 'bowels' of Coruscant, his exposure to the dead was limited at best – especially when the dead were people he so thoroughly respected.

"You go get out of here now and you say _nothing_ boy!" Muvo bellowed, the loose skin around his neck, shaking with each roared word.

The boy nodded once more, turned and ran down the metallic corridor, his boots clip-clopping on the old steel. He turned right onto an old, rusted landing and stopped, staring quietly. A girl, no older than perhaps fifteen or sixteen sat on the edge of the landing, her legs kicking the air freely, the wind blowing against her face and hair.

Her hair was brown and quite straight, but often dirty from exhaustingly long days working. Her skin was paled slightly, as was the case for most people in the lower levels of Coruscant; there was limited access to sunlight in the densely fogged clouds that shrouded the higher structures. Her eyes were a milky green and were adorned by fine eyebrows, arched slightly concave down and thinning to a point. Her lips were always full and red, and perhaps her most attractive feature, aside her entirely intriguing and inquisitive eyes. She was not very tall, however, and her whole body reflected that height, with dainty, thin fingers and a weak, but thoroughly attractive, thinness all over.

Solstice Endac; or 'Sol' as so many had come to know her by.

She was very beautiful to him; despite the age difference. She was older than him – older by how much, he never knew, she had told him once that she did not know herself. Of all the people that lived in the lower levels, she was the most important to him – there was something about her – she was motherly toward him, a teacher, a storyteller, a playmate and a friend – but it went beyond that.

Her attention turned to the boy, her face glowed with beauty and youth, "what's up?" she smiled.

"Sol, I saw a Jedi," he mumbled softly, without any emotion.

"Don't be making any stories!" she scolded, laughing to herself, "stories like _that_ will get you in trouble".

"No," he urged, perhaps a little to harshly, "I saw a Jedi and he was not awake".

'Not awake' was a special term – it was something she had taught him in case there was indeed, seriously a problem; the kind of problem which concerned the dead, extreme peril or danger, especially around them.

Her face changed from one of childish play, to dread almost instantly, "don't you dare be lying right now," she swallowed.

The boy's expression remained unchanged.

Solstice shot up and ran to him, kneeling in front of his small, child-like face, "where is the sleeping Jedi?" she asked quietly in his ear.

The boy pointed down the corridor.

Her eyes widened, "the Jedi is asleep in the trash compactor?"

The boy nodded, almost very nearly crying.

She rested a hand on his shoulder, "you stay here and you keep quiet," she ordered, then rose to her feet and headed down the corridor the boy had pointed at.

Muvo stood, seemingly perplexed, at a control panel, waving his thick and brutish hands around, slamming buttons intermittently and cursing.

"What's the matter Muvo?" she asked, attempting to peer through the viewing slit into the trash room.

"This stupid computer won't execute the stupid commands I give it!" Muvo raged, slamming his fists hard on the input panel, "blast you, you stupid-"

"Oh, maybe I can help?" Solstice asked politely, floating around Muvo coyly – she was just over half his size and perhaps a third of his girth.

"Maybe you can shut up and go and cook some dinner for the men in the cooking pod?" Muvo snapped, smiling his bloated mouth wide, exposing a most unpleasant set of teeth.

"Well I think your problem is that lever," she pointed through the viewing slit in the trash compactor, "over there".

"What?" Muvo yelled, narrowing his eyes, "that stupid boy must have left that lever open this morning!"

She smiled hesitantly up at the beastly alien, "I'll go and flick it for you".

"No," Muvo replied shyly, "I'll- I'll go and fix that… you make sure you stay here and don't touch nothing".

"I'll try," she teased, smiling happily up at him.

Muvo forced a smile and trudged heavily over to the door control panel and opened the mechanical door, once more.

She peered through the view slit again and rocked her head about for a better view, but the body the boy had claimed was in there, was not to be seen. Her eyes darted about, trying to scavenge a glimpse of the Jedi but all that she saw was a silver tube…

Her mouth dropped slightly. The cylinder looked the right shape and size – just as she had imagined it would.

Muvo stomped and shouted at the lever for a moment, before thrusting one trunk of a leg upward and kicking the rusted lever into its 'up' position. He smiled happily at the old steel and abused it some more for 'not having worked in the first place'.

She thought quickly, noticing Muvo's thumping legs were exiting the trash compactor; in moments, there would be a small cube the size of _the boy_ and the Jedi and the Jedi's tool would be lost forever.

"What did I _tell you_?" Muvo roared, screaming at someone else.

Her attention jumped from the tube to the new person – it was the boy, whom was now crying.

Muvo bit his bloated lower lip, "oh… wel- oh come on don't do that!" he pleaded. His heart of iron, that the girl was thoroughly convinced of, seemed to have a soft-spot for little children.

Her mind jumped and she quietly and sneakily, slipped behind Muvo's giant rear, winking at the boy on the way, whom now turned on the tears even more so. She had explained to him, once, the importance of knowing '_just when to cry_'. It seemed that lesson had not been fruitless.

She slid quietly into the trash compactor and stuck out one delicate little hand, grasping for the silver tool. The pile of waste upon which the hilt sat was just out of reach and she cursed. Glancing sideward for one moment.

Her eyes locked onto the body – it was true. There the Jedi Knight lay; his robes caused his face to be indistinct. The robes were charred and tattered. She wanted to get closer and examine this legendary figure but there was no time.

She looked her old dress up and down, "well… it's been fun but- I have to do this," she whispered and jumped into the cesspool.

She waded slowly, and only a few feet, to the pile on which the silver cylinder rested. She reached her hand once more and this time, wrapped her dainty fingers around the tool.

In that brief second, she felt as though a thousand voices whispered to her – some called out in what felt like great pain, others were incomprehensible. She released the silver tube and clutched her heart. She had felt this pain only once before; when her mother died. Something happened at the moment of her mother's death that flowed through her own body – she felt her mother die.

The tool glimmered in the dim light, lucidly reflecting her image.

She swallowed and grabbed the hilt one more time and this time, she grasped it tightly and pulled it free of the muck and filth it otherwise would most certainly have been buried with.

"Give it to me Solstice," Muvo said quietly. There was a great uneasiness in his voice.

She spun and smiled, "do you know what this i-"

"GIVE IT TO ME!" he screamed, edging closer to her.

She shook and fell backward, startled by Muvo's approach, "I- I-"

"You had to stick your nosy little face into this, didn't you?" Muvo asked implicitly, "you're always getting yourself into trouble".

"Listen Muvo," she stuttered, "I'm sor-"

"No, little one," Muvo soothed, "I'm sorry I'm going to have to kill you both now, because you don't _LISTEN TO ME_".

She trembled, noticing the boy, muffled under Muvo's massive forearm.

"Now, give me the Lightsaber and we can get through this quickly," he said, his voice almost sickeningly calm.

The boy's body flailed in quiet pain.

"Come closer Sol," Muvo waved his open palm, "let ol' Uncle Muvo fix you up good".

She scuttled backward and out of the trash pit, shaking in terror. In that moment, that brief moment of terror, someone spoke to her; reached out to her…

"…you can do this…you can save this one…"

She paused, calm and complacent… the voice sounded entirely like her mother's.

Muvo thrust forward with an outstretched palm and slapped her down like a ten-pin bowling ball collecting a 'strike'. She slid across the moist metallic landing and collided with a steel strut. She screamed in pain…

"…you can save this one…you can save this one…"

The voice sounded so close and so calm, almost just behind her ear. She rose to her feet and wiped her sleeve across her mouth, riding any filth from her face.

Muvo smiled, "such audacity child," he chuckled, "this is why you will die".

She stood resilient and glanced at the boy, whose body was now slumped and lifeless. Muvo lunged forward and in that thrust grabbed her close. Perhaps it was a mistake, perhaps it was the voices, perhaps it was something else – but her thumb gracefully slid onto the small red button on the hilt, clutched tightly in her hands.

The tube erupted into a purple and white light that passed straight through Muvo's chest and out of his back.

She held the hilt tightly and paused for a moment as the blade hummed and crackled softly.

Muvo paused, his mouth agape in horror. He glanced down at the girl, then at the warm blade in his chest. His grip loosened and the boy fell to the floor, as did the girl. Muvo's gargantuan body suspended for a moment on the blade, his head slumped downward.

When she was quite sure of what had just happened, she deactivated the hilt and the purple blade was swallowed neatly inside the hilt.

Muvo's body fell backwards and with an almighty thump, smashed into the garbage pit, his look of shock and terror still plastered on his face.

The girl turned her attention to the boy, who lay very still on the ground. She kneeled by his side, and rubbed his arm vigorously, "wake up! It's alright; he's gone to sleep now! He won't wake up anytime soon!" she shouted.

The boy's body remained very still. She shook him some more, "come on! Enough playing!" she called, patting his soft cheek.

Still, the boy remained quiet and limp.

"…there will be a time…a time when this will make sense…this will all make sense…"

She paused as a tear rolled down her cheek, "please wake him up! Whoever you are! Wake him up I know you can! You said I could save him! Please help me save him! _Please_!" she begged, misty-eyes darting around the room.

But there was silence.

She mourned for some time, before kissing the boy's forehead and rising to her feet, clutching the hilt of the dead Jedi Knight.

She looked around the room at the bodies… the Jedi's… Muvo's… and the boy's…

"I'm in trouble…" she whispered, snapping to the realization that three dead bodies and being found at the crime scene was often not well received by any observer.

She raced out of the trash compactor to her room. In time, the bodies would be found. She loved the boy like a son and a brother, but she could not stay in the lower levels. Not any longer at least.

A/N: Well, let me know what you thought of that :) As I said, I'm a long time fan, but not necessarily the most knowledgeable, so excuse any 'errors' or plot-holes, just enjoy this for what it is, a story for everyone's entertainment!


	2. Bring Balance to the Force

A/N: Alright, we'll see how this next chapter goes! This one is a bit more related to Episode III (ok… not really… but I'm telling a story here so you've gotta give it time to evolve). Once again, I'd very much appreciate any feedback just so I know what you guys want to read and/or whether I should keep going with this one! Anyway, enough of me plugging… well…me / here's the next part of…

**The Hilt**

This chapter occurs almost days after Episode III: Revenge of the Sith… and for the record, all sequences in italics will be flashbacks to parts of the film.

_Chapter II: Bring Balance to the Force_

His eyelids flickered slowly under the darkened hood; aroused by the presence of which he presumed was his new apprentice.

"Lord Vader…" he hissed, remaining seated behind his extravagant red and gold desk.

The new presence paused, breathed heavily, and then stepped further into the Emperor's chamber, "yes, my master..."

"I have been meditating. I have seen things. Things which disturb me greatly, my noble apprentice…" the man explained, "we have not completed our quest fully".

Darth Vader cocked his neck slightly, still adjusting to his unnatural prison in which his body was now locked – _forever_, "I do not understand my master… to what are you referring?" he exhaled heavily.

"Lord Vader," the man glared, his reptilian eyes cold and piercing, "we must destroy the Jedi – all of them… we must wipe them out such that they can never rise up again…"

Vader paused; his helmet removed the ability for any observer to read his expression to know, just what he was thinking, "there are fewer than a handful left, they will not ris- they _cannot rise_".

"I am aware of their present situation, my loyal apprentice, but there are some things which must be taken care of personally and _completely_," the old man lectured. Vader observed some spittle flying from the man's mouth as he spoke.

"I bid you destroy all of the Jedi," the old man ordered, "wipe them out Lord Vader, _all of them_".

"I have not sensed the presence of a Jedi in the galaxy… for some days now," Vader protested, "perhaps I should be better suited overseeing your new project, my master?"

"You are still adjusting, Lord Vader," the hooded man cackled, "there is much you must learn about the Dark Side of the Force…"

Vader breathed heavily again.

"My apprentice, I have seen- I have seen the hand of Master Windu at work…" the old man trailed, closing his eyes as if to picture the scene he spoke of.

"Master Windu?" Vader questioned, stepping forward, "this is… _impossible_".

"I am not mistaken!" the man shouted, rising to his feet and glaring at Vader, "I have seen his hand at work and I am…" he seated once more, calming and preventing the end of his own sentence. He paused and closed his eyes once more, "you will destroy the Jedi, Lord Vader".

Vader inhaled deeply and with great strain, "yes… my master… as you wish".

The Dark Lords paused. Vader was more reflective than anything, remembering the moment in which he had veritably signed Mace Windu's death certificate…

"_I need him…" Anakin cried._

"_He has too much control of the Senate and the Courts. He is _too dangerous to be kept alive_!" Mace Windu recoiled, raising his blade high._

"_He has to live!" Anakin pleaded, but it was too late, Windu's Lightsaber came down with a distinctive 'swoosh'._

_Anakin jumped without thinking and raised his own blade in time with Windu's, slicing upward and through the old Master's forearm and detaching the attacking hand from his body…_

The hooded man lowered his head, "you are an admirable young Sith, Lord Vader… I trust you will not fail me".

Vader lowered his own head, shaking the image of Master Windu's missing hand from his mind.

Two glimmering red guards stood each side of the doors. Vader trekked past them, ignoring their intimidating helms and silent stance. His own suit was undeniably intimidating in its own right – but he was not used such a façade. The impact of what his life had become was only just dawning on him.

Vader stopped suddenly, clutching his helmet, feeling around his head with his hands, just to confirm one more time that everything around him was real – _he was real_.

His mind floated… flashing back to a few days earlier…

"_Where is Padmé? Is she safe, is she alright?" Vader's voice croaked._

_Darth Sidious revealed himself from the shadows and spoke quietly but firmly, "I'm afraid she died… it seems in your anger, _you killed her_…"_

_Droids and other metallic items began to rupture, shatter and disintegrate around the pair of Dark Lords._

_Vader panicked, "I couldn't have! She was alive! I felt her! She was alive! It's impossible! _Nooo_!" before raising his hands upward in a plea to the Heavens._

"…my Lord, please…you alright? …shuttle…my Lord?..."

Vader's eyelids rose, and his viewing sensors came online again; the face of a young but seemingly hardened officer slowly came into lucid view.

"My Lord, are you ill?" the officer questioned, kneeling beside Vader and resting a firm hand on his shoulder.

Vader breathed deeply and rose a silent hand. Suddenly, the officer was flung through the air, across the width of the hall and slammed hard against a small marble statue, knocking it over in the process.

The officer groaned in pain and lay contorted on the ground, clutching his ribcage.

Vader breathed, rising to his feet, "let us be off, Captain, we have much work to do".

The officer continued to lie on the ground, moaning and mumbling incoherently.

Vader glanced down at the man's body and exhaled loudly. He blinked and saw, momentarily, Count Dooku's limp body, after he had executed him, in place of the officer's. Vader blinked slowly again to see the officer rubbing his head and searching for his hat.

"I am sorry Lord Vader, I will not be so insolent again," the officer groveled.

Vader placed a heavy boot atop the officer's hat.

The officer crawled on all-four's for a moment before spying his hat underneath Darth Vader's black boot. He looked slowly upward at the heavy-breathing Sith Lord.

Vader paused and bent over slowly, grabbing the officer's hat and the officer by the scruff of his neck, "here is your hat Captain," he breathed, shoving the hat on the man's chest, "I suggest you take it and that we leave now before I have to remove anything more from your head…"

The officer swallowed heavily and nodded very slowly, "as you- as you wish Lor- Lord Vader," he trembled.

Vader dropped the man to the ground once more and headed down the corridor, his boots stomping hard with each step, away from the Emperor's chambers.

Solstice Endac shoved what very little she owned inside the case, which had once belonged to her mother, as quickly as she could. There was of course, her nightgown, torn and recently unwashed. Usually she was very careful about these things; living in the underworld of Coruscant's lower-levels was not easy – it was very a dirty place, abandoned by the wealthy.

The jewellery, which the boy had somehow 'acquired' for her as a gift, was tossed unkempt into the case along with a few other personal items; a holo-recorder, a fake speeder license and two vocal decoders – one of which, was faulty and nearly useless. She kept a hold of the pair of vocal decoders purely for sentimental reasons; the faulty one had been the boy's at one point. She remembered when he had broken it whilst fooling around with her and the two Astromech droids they constantly toyed with and teased.

A small table, which she had placed neatly next to her sleeping pallet, concealed a duo of sliding draws. She messed through the second draw quickly and emptied the few Republic Credits she had been saving onto her bed. There was, at last count, a solid eight-hundred and forty-three. Not nearly enough for two tickets, as she had originally planned for.

Ultimately, she had wanted to escape the lower levels, after some years of hard work, with the boy, to the high levels of Coruscant, to begin life anew. In the events of the past half-hour, that dream only held a spot for her. She wiped an already wet sleeve across her nose and rose to her feet again.

She spun around and scanned quickly through her limited collection of clothing, hanging somewhat neatly in her wall-dresser, and decided upon taking her favourite 'field dress' – a long, flowing dress, light and casual but still formal, in a light green colour much like her eyes. She also grabbed a bright butter-yellow tunic that her mother had once given her. She had resolved to never wear it however; she wished to save it for the days when she would finally be living in the sky-high buildings of Coruscant. Now seemed as good a time as any.

The dress she had on had become entirely filthy from wading through the waste in the trash compactor. She thought, perhaps, that she was probably in need of a wash but she could not risk losing any more time. So she stripped off the wet and smelly old dress, using the drier parts across the shoulders to soak up any residue on her legs and feet.

The butter-yellow tunic had matching brown 'smuggler's' pants, decorated with stylish yellow squares down the side – indicative of the rising trend; or so she had been told.

When she was quite satisfied with her toweling effort, she dressed in the smuggler's pants and butter-yellow jacket, which was tight fitting but not uncomfortable. She looked around the room one last time and realized that she had forgotten one thing.

The hilt.

It lay sound and quiet on her sleeping pallet. She had used some of the sheets on the sleeping pallet to clean the hilt as quickly and as best she could. In one free hand she collected the Republic Credits and began to pour them into the case. When she was satisfied the Credits were tucked and folded neatly in her dress, she grabbed the hilt. She paused, debating for a moment, where the object would be most safe. She slid the weapon, somewhat uneasily, into her pants pocket. She snapped the case shut and leveled it on the bed.

Momentarily she had forgotten the location of her boots but soon found them underneath her sleeping pallet and fixed them tightly on each foot.

She was ready to go.

She paused, taking in one last breath of the acrid atmosphere she had grown so accustomed to.

"Solstice, there's been a murder! Come quick you gotta see-"

She stood, alarmed for a moment at the presence of another being. Her attention was drawn to her doorway and outside her room she noticed a small girl.

"Carrie!" Solstice squealed, "how long have you been there?"

"Just long enough to see that silver toy you've got! What is it? Why are you packing? Are you going away?" the little girl asked in rapid-fire.

"I- I need to go away… for a little while," Solstice lied, grabbing her case and biting her lip.

"Can I come? I won't be much trouble and I don't each much and I'm sure I'll be good company-"

"I'm sure you will be too," Solstice interrupted, "but I need to do this alone Carrie".

"When will you be back? Will you bring me a present? Can I come too?" the little girl asked again, slightly frustrating Solstice.

"I can't bring you with me kid…" she answered softly, walking toward the doorway, "but look… you can have _anything_ you want from my room. Just go on in and take whatever you want!"

Carrie's eyes widened, "_anything_?"

"Anything at all!" Solstice cried, "it's yours for keeps. For_ever_".

Carrie raced into Solstice's room and began to rummage through her clothes. Solstice smiled and swallowed, silently exiting her quarters for the last time. She walked down the corridor, only perhaps, a few steps, still smiling, and heard what sounded like a large 'clanging' in her room…

"It's just one little girl, not a bunch of scavengers… just go on Sol," she said aloud to herself.

The clanging continued as she walked briskly away from the personnel sector. Her mind was set entirely on escaping the lower-levels without anyone noticing her. Fortunately, it was past working hours and most people had retired to their families in their respective quarters, leaving the ramps, main walkways and streets of the lower-levels, largely unpopulated.

To escape the lower levels, there was but only one place a person could find a pilot, especially at such a late hour… the Cantina.

She rounded the main road from the personnel sector and walked discreetly toward the flashing lights in the distance, coming from the red-light district. Time was of the essence.

A/N: Did I get the flashback quotes right? I wasn't too sure, I asked a mate who's seen the movie twice and he said I was pretty close to spot on… also, wasn't too sure they showed the transition from _Jedi Anakin_ to big bad _Darth Vader_ too well in the film, so I've been playing around with what might have been going on in Vader's head post-Padmé's death, loss of his kid(s) and friends… it's a pretty big thing if you ask me and I think Padmé got it right when her final words were something like, "there's still good in him". So I'm trying to show a conflict in Vader's head between what has become and what he could have been… good idea? No? Alright… just let me know what you think.


End file.
